


A Second Winter Project

by Crysania



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 03:31:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crysania/pseuds/Crysania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/965944">A Little Winter Project</a>. Rumplestiltskin gets Belle to make a scarf for his son. Written especially for Fluffapalooza 2014! Because one can never have too many Floof Family fics!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Second Winter Project

It was cold and blustery the day that Rumplestiltskin met his son at Granny’s. They had been _trying_ to reconcile, and once a week lunches seemed to be all the two of them could handle at the moment. It was more than he had ever hoped for, if he had to be honest with himself. When his son had first come to Storybrooke, he had avoided him, told him he was only there for _his_ son, and that his father was no longer a part of his life.

Belle had set to changing that, of course. She took one look at the sadness written into the lines of his face and decided she would approach his son herself. Somehow she managed to get him to accept her calling him Bae, instead of Neal, and finally agreed to meet his father for lunch. They generally made small talk, skirted the truths and realities of their long existence, but it was a start.

That day he sat down and pulled the scarf Belle had made him off to fold it carefully over the seat behind him. The scarf was a monstrosity, an absolute mess of mismatched colors and stitches. Belle had no talent for knitting, that much was obvious, but he wore it with pride. Because the woman he loved made it for him. And Belle would never find out how often he contemplated using magic on it to make it look more appealing.

“Still wearing that thing?” Neal said as he slid into the booth opposite him.

Rumplestiltskin raised one eyebrow. “Of course I am. Belle would be crushed if I didn’t.”

Neal nodded. “She’s good to you, Papa.”

“She is,” he said as he steepled his fingers together, watched his son. Belle was too good to him, too good _for_ him, really. But he accepted her love as he accepted anything else given to him, with a certain amount of carefully concealed fear at losing it through his own foibles.

“I’m sure she wouldn’t notice if the scarf just went _missing_ one day.” Neal grinned at him and Rumplestiltskin found himself giving him an answering smile.

“Oh she’d notice. And probably knit me another monstrosity.” The last words were muttered under his breath.

“And you’d wear that hideous one with pride too, wouldn’t you? Man, she has you wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she?”

Rumplestiltskin chose not to dignify that one with a response.

“I knew I’d find you here!”

Rumplestiltskin and Neal turned almost at once to see Belle striding over to them, a bright smile on her face, blue eyes twinkling. She ruffled Rumplestiltskin’s hair and gave him a slight shove. He slid over easily, the look on his face placid.

“Told you.” Neal’s grin was smug.

“Told you what?” The look on Belle’s face was guileless. Neal looked guilty.

“Baelfire was just telling me how much he _adores_ the scarf you made me.” The look Rumplestiltskin gave his son was triumphant, but when he looked back to Belle he was smiling, indulgent, no sign of the trickster on his features.

“Really?” Rumplestiltskin couldn’t help smiling as her whole face lit up. It was nefarious of him, underhanded, sneaky. But it made Belle feel good and if it meant his son had to wear an equally disastrous bit of knitting for the remainder of the winter, then it was well worth it.

“Oh…um…yeah Belle. It’s great. Really nice of you to make sure my Papa stays warm all winter.” He wasn’t such a good liar, his boy. He watched as he ran his fingers through his already messy hair and looked away, his eyes squinting half shut. If Belle were a bit less trusting of the boy, she’d realize quickly that he was not telling the truth.

“In fact,” Rumplestiltskin continued with. “I bet that Bae would very much like his _own_ scarf.” Belle reached out and took his hand just as something sharp and toe-shaped struck his left shin. He let out a small noise.

“Are you ok?” There was a small furrow between her brows as she squeezed his hand.

He glanced over at his son, saw the smirk on his face, and narrowed his eyes at the boy. “Yes, sweetheart. I’m fine. So about that scarf for Bae?” Another sharp kick to his shin, but this time he was prepared. The gentle smile on his face did not waver and if he squinted just slightly from the pain, Belle didn’t appear to notice.

“Oh yes! I’d be happy to make one.” She pushed out of the seat, dropped a kiss on the crown of Rumplestiltskin’s head. “I’ll go gather up supplies. I’ve been practicing Bae! You’ll love it!”

She started to head off. “Belle, dear?”

She turned back to him. “Yes, Rumple?”

“Make sure it looks _just like mine_.” As she walked off, he felt one more sharp kick to his leg. At this rate, he was going to need a second cane.

* * *

It was some three weeks later when he met up with his son at the diner again. Belle had been busy during that time, secretly knitting away in her library. Rumplestiltskin had asked several times to see the scarf she was working on, but she hid it as soon as he came anywhere near her. It was a gift for _Bae_ and he would be the first to see it.

That morning she had carefully wrapped it while he attempted, once again, to get a glimpse of whatever disaster she had made for his son. His call to Baelfire to let him know Belle would be dropping by with his “gift” was met with a groan.

When he arrived, his son was already there, fiddling with his coffee cup and looking a bit annoyed. He never could get his son to enjoy a proper cup of tea, no matter how hard he tried. He still insisted on drinking that dark sludge he called “caffeine in a cup.” It seemed Granny’s was especially strong.

As he stepped into the diner, he waved one hand at Ruby behind the counter. The young wolf-girl knew exactly what he wanted, showing up just moments after he sat down. “I need a second one. Belle will be joining us.” The young woman nodded and moved off, always happy to leave a conversation with the Dark One as soon as possible.

Neal finally stopped studying his empty coffee cup and looked up at him.

Rumplestiltskin leaned forward. “Now listen, son. I know we’re not on the best of terms, but if you so much as give Belle a cross look about her dreadful knitting abilities…”

“I know, I know. Snail?” It was perhaps the first time he heard his son joke about such a thing, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that particular way that exactly mirrored his own.

“Indeed.”

They were quiet for a moment and then Belle came bustling in out of the cold, all sunshine and happiness. Ruby called to her, passing her the cup of tea before she could even get her coat off. Granny came over to help her remove the coat. Grumpy, the dwarf who always seemed to be drinking at the diner, no matter what time of day, called to her like old friends often do. He shook his head. He was the town pariah, the one everyone tended to avoid unless they were forced to interact with him, the one who got his tea handed to him, correctly done of course, but never with a smile or a _have a nice day_ or any of the niceties other patrons of the diner got. Belle was everyone’s best friend, the one everyone would jump through hoops to please. He had seen many coming to the library who probably didn’t even read the books they took out, but who did it because _Belle_ would be pleased. _Everyone_ fell under her spell eventually.

After a few moments, she finally made her way over and scooted into the seat next to him. Smiling, she leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before turning back to his son.

“Here Bae.” She handed over the package. “Now please tell me you’re not going to be like your father and try to save the wrapping paper.”

“Oh hell no.” He grabbed the present out of her hands and Rumplestiltskin smirked at him. “I like presents.” Apparently all the years apart hadn’t changed _some_ things about his son.

His son opened the present rapidly and Rumplestiltskin saw it a bit like ripping the bandage off a wound. It was less painful that way.  Better to reveal the hideous thing quickly than little by little. He pushed the paper away and pulled the scarf out, quickly spreading it out.

“Wow Belle…it’s…”

She smiled. “Yes?”

“It’s gorgeous.” And he meant it too, Rumplestiltskin knew. There was no lie there. There _needed_ to be no lie. The scarf was long, the color reminiscent of the shawl he once used to leave Storybrooke to find Baelfire. The stitches were tiny, neat little rows that drew the woolen yarn together beautifully. The scarf was, to put it mildly, perfect. Baelfire could wear it proudly with no one giving him sympathetic looks or outright laughing at the hideous thing draped around his neck.

He found his eyebrows rising as he turned to look at Belle. She smiled at him, bright and happy. “I’ve been practicing. Granny said I’m getting quite good at it.” She stood back up. “I can make you another one if you want, Rumple.” She reached out a hand and fingered the scarf that he had draped over the seat behind him. “I know my first attempt wasn’t nearly as good.”

“Don’t do that Belle,” Neal said. “Papa loves his scarf. It’s the original, after all.” He could hear the laughter in his son’s voice, the mocking tone. “No one will have one quite like it.”

Belle turned to look at him and he nodded. “Well, then that settles that! I’ll leave you boys to your lunch. There’s much work to be done at the library today.” She leaned over Rumplestiltskin and whispered in his ear. “I’ll see you later?”

He found himself fidgeting slightly with his cup at the suggestive tone of her voice. “Of course, sweetheart.”

And then she was off.

Rumplestiltskin turned back to his son, eyes narrowed at the grin he saw on his face. “You think this is hilarious, don’t you?”

“Isn’t it?” He held up the scarf and wrapped it around his neck. “She does lovely work. Too bad about yours.”

“Are you going to wear it all through lunch?”

“Yup.” The grin had turned smug.

Ruby appeared with their orders. “Wow…nice scarf, Neal.”

“Thanks. Belle made it.” Ruby’s eyes widened and she glanced over at Rumplestiltskin.

“Really? Wow, she really did learn something from Granny. Too bad she didn’t learn it before she made that monstrosity you’ve been wearing, Gold.” He glanced up at her and nodded, a tight smile on his face.

“Don’t you have customers to get back to Ruby?”

“Of course. But you’re so much more fun to torment.” She gave him a wide grin and then scooted out of there as fast as she could when he grabbed his cane.

“Well, Papa, at least look at it this way. You have a good woman who loves you enough to make you something to keep you warm.”

Rumplestiltskin nodded. There was that. And he knew he would wear that hideous thing Belle called a scarf until it fell apart.

He just hoped that would happen sooner rather than later.


End file.
